


A Stocking Stuffed with Drabbles

by shadowmaat



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Author can't count, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, M/M, crimes against knitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-02-15 20:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13038540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowmaat/pseuds/shadowmaat
Summary: Jedifestis running a "Daily Stocking" list of prompts for December and I've been taking a crack at the ones I like. Most of them run well over 100 words, but they are all short pieces. #8 contains some violence, but hopefully not too graphic. Will update as I add more.1. Lando/Boba Fett: Deals2. Poe/Rey: Ugly Sweaters3. Chirrut/Baze: Blossom4. Cody/Obi-Wan: Kiss5. Padmé/Maul: Royal6. Kit Fisto: Decorate7. Boba Fett: Bounty Hunter8. Darth Maul punching Sidious in the face with all his might9. Maul/Kilindi Matako: First10. Finn/Poe: Ignite (No spoilers for TLJ)11. Poe Dameron: Succulents12. Jocasta Nu: Knowledge13. Lando Calrissian: Hot Chocolate14. Obi-Wan/Cody: Loyalty15. Finn/Poe: Soulmate16. Finn/Rey: Lights17. Maul/Obi-Wan: Burning18. Finn/Rey: Socks19. Maul: Longing





	1. Lando/Boba Fett: Deals

“So it’s settled?” Lando held out his hand.

“We have a contract.” Boba Fett grabbed his arm, Mando style.

Lando couldn’t control his smile. “Contract, huh? Is that what we’re calling it, now?”

He found himself yanked forward, held against Boba’s armored chest. The visor was as opaque as ever, but he could picture the glint in those golden brown eyes, the smirk on his soft lips. His heart beat faster.

“When you send me out to rescue your  _ex?_  Yeah, Calrissian, it’s a contract.” Boba pressed his helmet to Lando’s forehead, voice dropping to a growl. “You owe me  _big_  time.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.”

“Me too.”


	2. Poe/Rey: Ugly Sweaters

Rey stared at Poe. His sweater was in eye-searing colors and far too busy even without the tassels. Blinking diodes woven across the front spelled out DAMN MORON. She stifled a giggle. 

“Poe, what  _is_  that?” 

Eyes rolling, he started to speak. “I, Poe-boy Damn Moron insulted the fine handiwork of the universe’s best knitter, Vi Morada.” He grimaced. “In my hubris, I, Poe-thetic Damn Moron challenged the Glorious Vi to a game of sabacc... and lost. This is my punishment because I...” he sighed, “am a Poe-ser.”

Laughing, she hugged him. “You’re a Poe-ragon of style.”

He groaned, returning the hug.


	3. Chirrut/Baze: Blossom

Careful fingers ghosted along the bonsai’s limbs, pausing at an eager new branch. 

_Baze left. Chirrut waited, confident his heart’s mate would return. He waited as the Empire sank poisoned roots into Jedha. He waited as Saw Gerrera’s Partisans made a bad situation worse. He waited as a star with a heart of kyber followed a rebel in search of hope. He was still waiting when a shadow moved overhead and obliterated Jedha City from the maps._

**-SNIP-**

The branch fell and was brushed aside. Fingers moved again, finding another source of new growth.

_Chirrut flipped the switch, experiencing a moment of triumph amid the chaos before an explosion brought pain and the sound of screams that were not his own. He didn’t regret what he’d done, but wished he could have spared Baze this pain. The message escaped, even if none of them would. That was fine; at least Baze was with him this time._

**-SNIP-**

Another unwanted path removed, leaving the small tree unblemished once again. Unblemished except for one new, welcome addition. One finger touched the six petals of the tiny blossom and Chirrut leaned close, breathing in its spicy-sweet scent. Soon Baze would knock on the door, complaining he was late. Soon their friends would arrive, bringing noise and good cheer. Soon the celebration of an unlikely victory would begin. But for now there was just this: a man, a tree, and many branching possibilities.

All is as the Force wills it. ...With a little extra guidance.


	4. Cody/Obi-Wan: Kiss

Cody’s mind blurred with exhaustion. With the way the assault was going he wouldn’t be seeing his bunk any time soon. General Kenobi was in even worse shape, swaying where he stood. If they didn’t take a break soon Stitch would tranquilize them both.

“You dropped this, sir,” he said, holding out a lightsaber.

Obi-Wan smiled. “Ah, Cody, where would I be without you?”

Before he could reply the General stepped close, retrieving his lightsaber and pressing his lips to Cody’s. In a heartbeat he was gone, back into the fray. Did he know what he’d done? Or had Cody hallucinated it? He hoped... well. He hoped.


	5. Padmé/Maul: Royal

The zabrak lounging on her bed matched the description the Jedi had given of the assassin from Tatooine. Padmé kept her blaster leveled at him, but didn’t call her guards. Yet.

Three steps into the room and he opened his eyes. Yellow. Glowing. She froze, pulse racing as he sat up.

“Your highness.” His voice was soft, cultured.

“What do you want?”

“My Master wants you dead.” He stood, padding closer. “But I’m tired of killing on  _his_  command. Being his  _tool_.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And?”

His smile was predatory. “I have a proposition for you.”


	6. Kit Fisto: Decorate

Kit’s smile spread wide as the younglings mobbed him. The Festival of Lights was in full swing and even the Temple wasn’t immune. Small gifts were exchanged, special treats were consumed, and, of course, there were decorations. Lights, tinsel, beads; anything that glowed or shimmered festooned the streets, the hallways, and one Nautolan Jedi Master.

Tiny hands tugged at his headtresses and small voices chattered and argued as the crechelings worked to make him festive. At least they stepped back and Kit stood, shedding glitter and bits of garland.

“Well? How do I look?”

Cheers, hoots, and giggles answered him. His reflection grinned back at him, glowing with lights and shiny bits. The Council meeting would be  _fun_.


	7. Boba Fett: Bounty Hunter

The sarlacc stole his face. Scavengers stole his armor. Time stole his name. The Bounty Hunter walked into the cantina, which was as familiar and unmemorable as hundreds like it, but for one detail. Seated at the bar was a boy he used to know. Dark hair framed a face as stormy as the skies of Kamino. It shouldn’t have been possible, but sometimes Reality bent. 

“You a bounty hunter?” He sat down.

“What’s it to you?” The Boy glared.

“Nothing. Bit of advice, though.” He turned, showing off his scarred face. “Not all bounties are worth it.”

Fire lit the boy’s eyes, a passion the Hunter remembered well. 

“Kriff y-” The Boy froze, staring.

The Hunter tugged his cloak over the last remnant of his past; a twisted piece of beskar’gam with a scuffed symbol, inherited from his father.

“Choose your _own_ path, not his.” The Hunter knocked back a drink and stood, walking away. “Good hunting, Boba Fett.”


	8. Darth Maul punching Sidious in the face with all his might

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In case you couldn't tell, this one DOES contain some violence, so be warned.

_Weak._

_Pathetic._

_Failure._

_Garbage._

His former Master hurled insults at him. It was nothing Maul hadn’t heard before, usually from himself. He hung in the air, feeling the burns, cuts, and bruising from their fight. 

_Scum._

_Useless._

Maul waited for his chance. His saberstaff was shattered along with his left arm, but the pain helped him focus. Pain. Hate. Rage. All the things Sidious had beaten into him; things deemed necessary in the forging of a weapon. But there was one thing about weapons the Sith Lord seemed to have forgotten.

At last Sidious dropped him. Maul bent before him, the picture of humility as he gathered his strength, hiding his intent behind a cloud of pain. Sidious stepped before him, awaiting his apology. Maul moved with unnatural speed and a strength born from years of abuse and Force training. The heel of his hand made a satisfying crunch as it drove the bastard’s nose- and parts of the surrounding bone- backward. Sidious himself was knocked off his feet, skidding to a stop several feet away.

Straightening, Maul sauntered over to admire his handiwork. The look of surprise in those dimming eyes was something he would savor for years to come.


	9. Maul/Kilindi Matako: First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (For those who don't know Kilindi was a Nautolan girl Maul met at Orsis Academy. If he had a concept of what "friend" was she might have been one.)

Maul could see the terror in Kilindi’s eyes as he walked towards her. She knew what was coming. They both did. His Master had ordered him to kill everyone in Orsis Academy. Kilindi was the only one left. Nothing mattered except what his Master wanted. Nothing. Not Kilindi’s laugh. Or her smile. The way they worked so well together. How she made him feel like he  _belonged_. The only place he belonged was by his Master’s side. He stood before her, knife ready.  

“I guess you’re not interested in the surprise that Daleen and I had for you.”  One last smile trembled on her lips. She brushed her headtresses back and met his gaze, unflinching.

Maul opened his mouth. “I might be.”

Her eyes widened. So did his. That hadn’t been what he’d intended to say.

“A-are you sure?” Tears spilled from her eyes.

He wasn’t, but he nodded anyway. She stepped forward, leaned in, and brushed her lips against his.

Maul had no context for what she was doing and no words to describe the feelings coursing through him, but he knew one thing: he was never going back to his Master.


	10. Finn/Poe: Ignite

It was all overwhelming; the lights were too bright, sounds were too loud, and the scrubs Kalonia had found for him seemed to rub his skin raw. Information was too much to take in, too: his survival, Rey’s survival and departure, the state of everything. He nodded as Kalonia gave him instructions, not understanding a word of it. And then a familiar figure walked past the entryway.

“Poe?” His voice, at least, still worked. 

Poe lurched to a stop, pivoting to face him.

“Finn?” He grinned. “Buddy! You’re awake!”

“You’re alive!” Finn was grinning, too, and met him halfway. Air huffed out of him as Poe caught him in a hug, but it was worth it. They were both laughing, faces damp with tears.

“It’s so good to see you again, you have no idea.”

Finn tried to articulate a response, but Poe’s chin was digging into his shoulder and his arms were holding him tight. Something ignited in his chest, spreading warmth through his chilled limbs. _This_ , this right here made it all worthwhile. He finally had a place where he belonged.


	11. Poe Dameron: Succulents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a little Stormpilot-y...

“Hey Poe, have you seen- what is that?”

“Hey, buddy!” Poe continued to fuss with the little pot. “That would be what we call a  _plant_. It’s a thing that grows in the ground.”

He glanced up, smiling as Finn rolled his eyes.

“A  _plant!_   _Wow!_  Okay, and where did the  _plant_  come from?” He waved a hand. “Doesn’t look like the  _plants_  from around here.”

“Found it in the cuff of my pants after I got back from Jakku.”

That earned him a glare. He chewed his lip, trying not to laugh.

“Jakku. Seriously. And you didn’t toss it in an incinerator why?”

“I thought it’d make a nice gift.” He picked up the pot, which fit in the palm of his hand.

"A gift?” Finn blinked. “Oh, for Rey? Yeah, she might like-”

“Nah, buddy, it’s for you.” Poe held out his hand.

Finn stepped back, frowning. “ _Me?!_  What? Poe, you know I hate that damn place!”

“I, uh, I thought it might be a nice reminder of, uh, how we met. Sorta.” He could feel the tips of his ears burning. He watched Finn’s face go through a range of emotions before settling on... on something he didn’t dare identify.

“I hate you, Poe Dameron.” 

Finn’s fingers brushed against his palm as he picked up the pot with its spiky little occupant. Poe licked his lips, warmed by his friend’s smile.

“I know.”


	12. Jocasta Nu: Knowledge

If there was one thing Jocasta Nu had learned in her years as Master of the Archives it was that sometimes the most important lessons of all were never written down. Some were too “obvious” to the people who might be inclined to record it, some were learned too late, and others were too forbidden to speak. It was the last that frustrated Jocasta the most, especially as Darkness sank its roots into the Temple. Nothing in the Archives could tell her what was happening or how to stop it.

Many of her predecessors believed that the books and recordings contained in the Library were the most important part of the Temple. She didn’t disagree, exactly, but she also understood that all the knowledge in the universe was useless if there was no one there to read it and more importantly, understand it. 

Sometimes she called the students and Masters who studied within her walls her “mobile archive.” It was that archive she needed now. While an individual record of what she needed might not exist, there would be traces everywhere. They just needed to be compiled.

A comment here, a data-tape left there; Jocasta planted seeds of curiosity and hoped they’d grow to fruition before it was too late.


	13. Lando Calrissian: Hot Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story also contains young (pre-TFA) Ben Solo, if that's a "nope" for you consider yourselves warned.

Lando stared at the dark figure huddled on his doorstep and remembered the last time they’d crossed paths.

“I hate them!” Ben stood in Lando’s kitchen, arms crossed and radiating rage.

“Ahh, you don’t hate them, kid,” he said, pouring hot milk into two mugs and stirring the contents to a chocolaty froth. “You just don’t understand them. There’s a difference.” He added a handful of marshmallows and turned, handing one mug down to his guest.

“They’re the ones who don’t understand me!” Ben glared at his drink before slurping it.

“Why don’t you tell me all about it?” Lando gestured at the table. 

They sat and he listened to a litany of the boy’s complaints, which ranged from not being allowed to get a tooka (Han was allergic), to studying things he hated (comportment), to punishments for things he totally didn’t do (threatening classmates).

Lando nodded in the right places, and was silently grateful he didn’t have kids. He imparted what wisdom he could, promised to speak to his parents so they’d listen, and then made him an offer.

“...and if it doesn’t work out, come back and talk to me. Maybe I can put you to work.” He winked.

Han had shown up not long after and due to various circumstances that was the last he’d seen of Ben. Until now.

He palmed open the door. Ben straightened, wiping furtively at his eyes. A dozen years had darkened his hair and left him towering over his “uncle.”

“Is that job offer still open?”

Lando smiled. “Let’s discuss it over cocoa.”


	14. Obi-Wan/Cody: Loyalty

The longnecks on Kamino taught them that loyalty was about trust. It was about following orders, leading the way into battle, and keeping your Jedi safe. They hadn’t gone into detail about  _from what_. That had been self evident. Mostly.

Cody walked over to stand by his general’s shoulder.

“Yes, Cody?” Obi-Wan didn’t glance up from his reports.

“It’s past dinner, sir.”

“Ah. You know you don’t need my permission to eat.”

“I was thinking of  _you_ , sir.”

Obi-Wan did look up at that, a smile crinkling his eyes. “Me?”

“You missed breakfast this morning,” Cody reminded him.

“Yes, well-”

“And dinner last night.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “You aren’t going to leave this alone, are you?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well commander.” Obi-Wan stood, stretching. “If it will make you feel better.” 

“It will make  _you_  feel better,” he corrected.

The laugh made Cody’s heart stutter and he had to clamp down on his emotions as Obi-Wan rested a hand on his shoulder.

“You may be right about that. Care to join me, Cody?”

There was  _warmth_  in those words. Or was it his imagination again? He smiled.

“I’d be honored.” 


	15. Finn/Poe: Soulmate

“It’s been a blob ever since I got the tattoo.” Poe ignored the shiver that raced up his spine as Finn ran his fingers over his soulmark. “The, uh, Artist said it’d take on more definition when I met a possible match.”

“Huh.” Finn’s palms were warm against his arm. “I knew of some officers who got them, but troopers weren’t allowed, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Poe wrinkled his nose.

Neither of his parents had bothered to get them, but at least it had been  _their choice_. Poe and the rest of his old squad had gotten theirs after a night of celebration and he hadn’t thought of it much since. Finn, however, seemed fascinated.

“You know...” Finn traced over the shape again. “It kinda looks like a trooper helmet.”

Poe froze, mouth suddenly dry. “You... you think so?”

“Yeah.” The smile spreading across Finn’s face warmed the whole room. “I do.”


	16. Finn/Rey: Lights

“Finn!”

Finn startled awake in the dim interior of the Falcon to find Rey standing over him.

“Finn,” she repeated in an urgent whisper, “come see!”

“What’s wrong?” He struggled up, wincing at the crick in his neck and the numbness of his leg, which had fallen asleep.

“Nothing! Just- you have to see!”

Strong fingers wrapped around his hand, pulling him towards the cockpit. He went willingly, the warmth of her touch traveling up his arm and causing his pulse to quicken.

She stopped behind the pilot’s seat and looked at him, face glowing in the lights of the console. No, glowing from more than that.

“What...?” He glanced out the viewport. Bright motes danced amid the backdrop of hyperspace. “How?”

“Willawisps!” She tugged his sleeve, drawing him forward. “I read about them in a book of old tales! They’re supposed to be a myth!”

“They look pretty real to me.” He rested his arms on the back of the chair, watching the impossible creatures spin and whirl.

Rey leaned against him, head pressing into his shoulder. “They’re beautiful.”

“Yeah.” Finn’s chest ached, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the willawisps or something else. “They really are.”


	17. Maul/Obi-Wan: Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This splits off from events in "Twin Suns" and imagines that Obi-Wan _didn't_ kill Maul. I may eventually work this into my ongoing fic based on that premise, [Twin Suns: Altered Destiny](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10410672).

“This is stupid.” Maul didn’t huddle within his borrowed robe; that would be a sign of weakness. “What is it supposed to accomplish, other than wasting flimsi?”

Beside him Kenobi sighed. “As I said, it’s an exercise to help you learn how to let go of your emotions.”

“I don’t need to-”

“Just toss it in the fire,” Kenobi interrupted. “Please.”

Maul crumpled the flimsi containing one of his “regrets” and tossed it in the fire. Not because Kenobi had told him to, but so that he could prove that this was pointless. He watched it writhe and blacken in the flames and felt nothing. As expected. The sooty remains lifted above the fire before disintegrating, carried away by a desert breeze. Something in his chest unknotted.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered.

Kenobi merely hummed before tossing in a note of his own. Both of them had large stacks, although most of Maul’s were made up. A Sith regretted nothing. That would mean admitting failure and he... wasn’t a Sith anymore. Not that it mattered. He crumpled another sheet and tossed it in, remembering the smile of a Nautolan girl from long ago.

Even with the fire the desert night was cold. Maul shifted closer to Kenobi. Just to conserve heat. He didn’t move even when he felt a brush of fingers against his knuckles. It didn’t make him feel warmer. It was just a coincidence.


	18. Finn/Rey: Socks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I ran WAY over anything close to drabble length on this one, but I couldn't resist.

Finn found Rey perched on a stack of crates, hunched over something in her lap. 

“Finn!” She beamed up at him, wiggling to one side. “Come sit! How’s your back?”

“It’s fine.”

She'd asked that every day since she got back. It was... nice? He’d never had anyone who actually cared about him before. Not that he thought she  _cared_  about him. At least not like- well-

He sat, trying to ignore the warmth she’d left behind, looking instead at what she was working on in her lap.

“Is that a sock?” He frowned. It was faded, stained, and covered with darns. She had a needle and thread and was working to stitch up a hole in the toe.

“My best pair.” The tip of her tongue stuck out as she jabbed the needle through the thin material again.

“Oh.” His stomach fluttered. He hoped he wasn’t coming down with something. “You know, I think the Resistance might have socks to spare.”

“I haven’t done enough to earn them.” She added another stitch, closing the gap.

“You-” He shook his head. “Rey, you’ve done enough to earn a whole room full of socks!”

She wrinkled her nose, leaning sideways to bump him with her shoulder. “It’s fine. These have a few more months left in them.”

He opened his mouth and closed it again, heat hammering. What was wrong with him?

“I- no, Rey.” He reached out, grasping her hands in his own. “You  _deserve_  to have new socks. And new other things, too! After everything you’ve- you deserve  _so much!_ ” He was rambling like an idiot, but couldn’t seem to stop.

Rey’s expression softened, her smile warming him down to his toes.

“You’re very sweet, Finn.” She leaned forward, brushing a kiss against his cheek.

The room spun. There was a roaring in his ears and his cheek still tingled.

_Oh_. Realization sank in.  _That’s_  what was wrong with him. He lifted a hand, tucking back a wisp of her hair. He knew he didn’t stand a chance, but he wouldn’t let that stop him from making sure she got the best pair of socks in the Resistance.


	19. Maul: Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I figured I'd add one last ficlet just to complete the collection. Sorry it's a sad, angsty one. Ho ho ho?

Maul’s legs, already clogged with sand, finally gave out. He collapsed, sliding halfway down the dune before coming to a stop. The twin suns of Tatooine burned overhead, as merciless as any Sith.

The air wavered, taking shape as his aching eyes watched. Soon he realized that it was Savage staring down at him.

“Brother.” The word was barely more than a wheeze between his parched lips.

Savage was talking to him. The words sounded far away and he couldn’t make any sense of them.

“You’re here,” he rasped, stretching out a trembling hand.

Savage shook his head and started to turn away.

“Brother! No!” Maul couldn’t muster the strength to stand no matter how hard he tried. “Don’t leave me,” he croaked, but Savage was still walking away. “Please. I... I need you.”

As he continued to strain the wind kicked up a swirl of sand. When it was gone, so was his brother.

“No.” If there’d been any moisture left in his body he might have cried. He dragged air into his burning lungs and screamed.


End file.
